


5 times Katsuki Yuuri jerked off to Victor Nikiforov in denial+1 time he still did it with acceptance

by softvanillavoca



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Universe, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Masturbation, No Homophobia, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, fanfic of a fanfic, rivals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softvanillavoca/pseuds/softvanillavoca
Summary: Just because sometimes he found his breath hitch during Victor’s routines when his movements complimented the tight lines of his body that had grown strong and masculine while still maintaining his swanlike grace, that didn’t mean anything other than the cold, clinical fact that Victor got lucky enough to both blessed with handsome genes and a puberty that had been kind to him.And good enough taste in fashion to flaunt those good looks, curse him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748484) by [Reiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya/pseuds/Reiya). 



> This fic is set in the universe of the amazing fanfic [Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8748484) by [Reiya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya/pseuds/Reiya) ([Kazliin](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/) on tumblr)! Yeah, this is a fanfic of a fanfic, written for the ["thank you for stepping on us"](http://kazliin.tumblr.com/post/158606571642/thank-you-for-stepping-on-us-masterpost) event which is basically the discord server dedicated to this fic celebrating Kaz and that she finished umfb&mha~! The other posts can be found under the #thankyouforsteppingonus tag.
> 
> Thanks again, dear kaz! Stay awesome and keep murdering us

Physically, Katsuki Yuuri during his adolescence had been no different from a regular boy.

In the dead of one summer night, a ten year old Katsuki Yuuri had woken up from the blistering heat only to find his underwear uncomfortably tight, which, on closer inspection, was because of a certain part of his body being much more hard and swollen than normal.

Yuuri did what any young boy without any idea of what’s happening to his body would do-he freaked out. He had no idea what caused this strange occurrence, but he knew that his dick isn’t supposed to defy gravity and stick out like that. A bizarre pulse ran through him when he tried to push it down, which made him snap his hands away from his crotch like it had burned him. Feeling helpless and lost, he tried to go back to sleep hoping that he’d be back to normal when he woke up.

But sleep was elusive that night for Yuuri. Worries about how he would go to school the next day if his abnormal state persisted kept him up, and he only managed to fall asleep when he almost passed out from exhaustion. Thankfully the next morning there was nothing strange about his lower body, and Yuuri tried to brush it off as something he had imagined. But after it happened again a few nights later and also the next, he realized that this might become a regular occurrence. He wished he could directly ask someone, but as he didn’t have any older brothers or any boys close to his age he was comfortable enough breaching such a private topic with (Takeshi briefly came to mind but he immediately rejected the idea, his irritation caused by the frequent teasings of the older boy still too fresh in his memory). 

He tried to figure out what he could on his own-the swelling didn’t hurt but made it hard for Yuuri to pee, it went away faster when dumped with cold water, and also if Yuuri became mentally upset (he’d rather avoid the latter option, even though the first one was more physically uncomfortable). What he had heard from eavesdropping on some of his more rowdy classmates gave him the impression that this was a pretty regular thing, not some weird disease, and didn’t have to be reported to his parents (thank god), so Yuuri tried to accept this phenomenon as a bothersome but unavoidable part of life.

Things didn’t really change when one year later Yuuri fell in love with the grace and the beauty of a sliver haired boy on the ice. He was still the same quiet, awkward, ordinary Yuuri who felt too small and too big in his body all at once, apprehensive of the rapid changes in his growing body but also eager to become bigger, better, someone who could flawlessly replicate the moves of Victor’s performances without butchering them because of short and floppy limbs. 

If his body was more unruly during the nights when his dreams were full of flashes of silver and faint memories of gliding across the ice hand in hand with another, he was not old enough yet to figure out the meaning behind it. The only thing he registered was his desire to share the same space as Victor, to skate on the same ice as him, to bare his soul as freely and beautifully.

Even on that fateful day, only a few hours before this dream was shattered to pieces and remolded into something burning and fierce, Yuuri had still believed that Victor was the most beautiful person he ever had the fortune to lay his eyes on. The memories from both Victor’s short program and his free skate-the sharp movements of his slim, toned body that seemed to be declaring his tacit claim as a god on the ice, and the soft, fragile dance across the ice that had enraptured Yuuri’s heart and soul-filled his thoughts even when he saw the boy in person. There was little he could think of except how desperately he wanted to reach Victor, truly reach him in ways more than one, although for now he was satisfied with the few moments he got.

Those moments had seemed to stretch forever as Victor faced him, his lovely eyes bright and twinkling with a smile that made Yuuri wish he could bottle it up and look at it every day as a reminder of the goal he was working so hard for. But before Yuuri could wrap his mind around the intensity of that strange craving, the venomous words that left Victor’s lips the very next moment had destroyed it. The soft touch of Victor’s hand patting his hair felt like something he had dreamed of for so long, but not like this, never like this when it was nothing more than a show of contempt without any affection behind it. 

Despite Yuuri’s earnest efforts to not think about Victor after he returned to Hasetsu, determined to forget the jarring difference between that angelic face and the cruel soul hidden beneath, the dreams still continued, albeit with a much different air from before (and less frequent because of how often he crashed into a dreamless sleep after a day of grueling practice). In the past even if he didn’t remember the details of his dreams, he always remembered the feelings they left behind-excitement and hope, glances of a future he was going to create with his own hands. 

But now he could only see Victor skating all alone in the middle of a vast, icy expanse, gliding away from Yuuri every time he got close, mocking and unreachable in his perfection. Victor’s smile in the sole poster that had survived Yuuri’s rampage was the same, an ironic fulfillment of his wish to have a reminder of his goal, never mind how that goal had become twisted into an abomination of its original form.

The following couple of years Yuuri threw himself so hard into training that he didn’t have time for anything else. He often felt like an alien when his classmates excitedly chattered about the things that interested them, be that the newest video games (which Yuuri would’ve loved to try out but he didn’t have enough time, not when he was still so behind), the dullness of their assignments (Yuuri could never emphasize with their laid-back attitude, not when he felt so guilty about all the extra expense his skating put on his parents and it was only natural he paid them back by at least doing his best at school) or the pretty girls and boys they were interested in (the idea of being attracted to someone because of their looks without knowing them personally was so confusing to Yuuri, and he didn’t understand why Yuko rolled her eyes when he told her so).

The last topic, in particular, was something he still had trouble with even after he finally moved to Detroit. All the people in his age group-both from his campus and his rink-were so much more confident in their sexuality and free in their affections that Yuuri wondered if his lack of interest in any kind of casual companionship meant there was something wrong with him. Although Yuuri would never look down on a person because of their looks (he promised himself that he’ll never be like Victor, cold and cruel and stepping over fragile hearts), he wondered if his choice of profession had made him have overly high standards when it came to physical attractiveness. Most of his close acquaintances were athletes with attractive, toned bodies, and although Yuuri himself was plain and boring to be with, he was aware that he had managed to at least keep his body fit and strong thanks to his intensive training.

Thanks to the poster of Victor that still smiled arrogantly on their dorm wall, Phichit had teased him that rather than Yuuri’s standards being high in general, his standards were Victor, and that’s a high hurdle to pass for any of the poor souls that tried to hit on Yuuri (Yuuri didn’t remember that happening ever, and wondered what drugs Phichit was on). Besides, the idea of Victor being his standard of beauty was ridiculous-Yuuri had come to hate the man even more after their brief exchange at Junior Worlds and being reminded of how he would never be acknowledged by the other man unless he managed to kick him off his throne. 

Just because sometimes he found his breath hitch during Victor’s routines when his movements complimented the tight lines of his body that had grown strong and masculine while still maintaining his swanlike grace, that didn’t mean anything other than the cold, clinical fact that Victor got lucky enough to both blessed with handsome genes and a puberty that had been kind to him. 

And good enough taste in fashion to flaunt those good looks, curse him.

That being said, Yuuri was no longer completely ignorant of what his body’s reactions meant. He had gotten a basic idea of things years ago when he first got access to the internet, and at the age of sixteen he was well aware that he had a normal sex drive for a teenager of his age, despite his complete disinterest in finding a partner to actually do something about it. While he didn’t really have anyone he found attractive enough to fantasize about, the mechanical motions of jerking off were pleasant enough, and a good way to let off steam. He hardly ever thought about anything while he did it, and tried to just get things over with considering the lack of privacy in the dorms. 

Very rarely-he could count the instances with the fingers of a single hand-when he had their room to himself, was mentally in a good place and also had a considerably lighter schedule than usual, he had tried to experiment a little bit with his own body and figure out what makes it tick. But even during his awkward attempts at fantasizing he had only managed to think up scenarios with imaginary faceless partners, uncomfortable with the idea of allowing anyone he knew so deep into his private space, even if it was all in his head. 

The occasional dreams-always too dim and abstract for his liking-were also similar, though at least they had helped him figure out that he liked gentleness, strength and flexibility in a partner. The idea of dreams reflecting a person’s desires made sense enough, and Yuuri had to admit that he had a preference for the dreams where he was being supported by a pair of strong arms as his mystery lover worshipped his body with a rain of caresses and kisses, treating him like he was something beautiful and precious no matter the ridiculous the overall scenario was.

So saying that a sex dream (Yuuri wondered if it was the right term since no sex took place, a small blessing allowed by his lack of experience) involving Victor Nikiforov after his humiliating defeat at the hands of the very same man was confusing would be a massive understatement. 

It made him almost want to completely stop thinking about anything even remotely sexual, a decision that solidified the day when Victor’s face from that stupid dream (unnaturally soft and adoring and yet so passionate) popped up in his mind while he was on his bed in the middle of a jerking-off session. Yuuri had almost bitten his tongue in surprise when that happened, and he would’ve just stepped into the shower and blasted his crotch with ice-cold water if he had been capable of it. But too far gone and only seconds away from finishing, Yuuri could only close his eyes in embarrassment and anger when he couldn’t will his weak legs to move.

Phantom Victor, just as cruel as his real life counterpart, took advantage of this, and Yuuri could almost imagine him leaning over him as he whispered encouragements into Yuuri’s ear, could pretend that the hand working his dick wasn’t his own but another’s, could delude himself that warm weight on his back belonged to a strong, wide chest and not the thick woolen blanket that was too hot for Yuuri by this point.

Yuuri was so, so confused and his lust-riddled mind felt like it was clouded by a thick layer of fog, so he just kept moving his right hand frantically, desperate to escape this baffling torture as soon as possible. The last thing his traitorous mind dreamt up before he broke was Victor biting into his shoulder (even though it was just Yuuri’s other hand digging into his own skin) and telling him that he could come, and Yuuri should’ve been indignant because he didn’t need anyone’s permission to come and definitely not Victor’s, but his body and mind must have been conspiring against him together because that only drove Yuuri into the most powerful orgasm he could remember having, making him bury his face into the pillows to muffle the unbidden scream that left his throat. He collapsed onto his bed like a doll with its strings cut, the strategically placed towel below him wet and sticky with the proof of his madness.

Yuuri suddenly had the feeling he had opened the door to something should’ve remained shut for the sake of his sanity, and he was proved correct over the course of the next few months, much to his chagrin.

**Author's Note:**

> This might be longer than most 5+1 things, though only the first and last chapters should be considerably longer than the others, if everything goes as planned.


End file.
